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To a Cootie 



The greatest lessons oft are learned 
From lowly creatures we have spurned, 
And all great men will greater be 
If they have learned humility. 



To a Cootie 

The Least of His Creatures 



my 

James H. Heron 
Author-Humorist 



Privately printed 
1919 






Copyright 1919 

by 
James H. Heron 



CI.A525674 

MAt 26 Ibid X 



i 



DEDICATION 

This "wee bookie" is respectfully dedicated to 
the "Thirty Thousand Liars," all true Americans, 
many of them sons of Scotsmen, who answered 
the call of liberty in the early days of the Great 
War, crossed the border into Canada and swore 
they were citizens of Great Britain, that they 
might enlist and join the crusade against autocracy. 

Many of them (too many) will not come back, 
but those who do, let us hope that their citizenship 
in the United States, whom they really went to 
serve, will immediately be fully restored to them. 

The Author 



To a Cootie 



From Inverness, a Scottish town, 
Came Angus Fraser of renown; 
The hero of this Cootie tale 
Was known far o'er hill and dale. 



He stood six two, an athlete, 
At games of skill he'd oft compete ; 
He loved fair play, an honest deal, 
A man of worth and true as steel. 



::.C:^ 




The Greatest War had just begun, 
Great Britain called up every son 
And sent them hurriedly to France 
To stop the savage foe's advance. 



Now, some men fight because they must. 
And some men fight for gain and lust ; 
And some men feel they are above it. 
While others fight because they love it. 



^<0 




And Angus loved this fight because 
The German butcher broke the laws 
Of Nations, and with cursed pride 
The laws of God and man defied. 



He loved to shoot and shoot to slay, 
Nor thought he had a perfect day 
Unless he clicked up half a score. 
And of'entimes he counted more. 




His nerve was sure, his aim was straight, 
His eagle-eye could penetrate 
The battle-smoke-beclouded day 
And pink a Boche a mile away. 



The Germans learned his aim to dread, 
A price was put upon his head, 
"An iron cross who fires the shot 
And kills this dangerous sniping Scot." 




They tried their best to shoot him dead 
But wary Angus pumped instead 
The bullets into Fritzie, prime, 
And took his toll most every time. 

When fighting days are all the same 
The dreary grind grows very tame, 
But He who doeth all things well ' 
Sends Cooties to relieve the spell. 




So when he wasn't killing Hun, 

Or polishing his trusty gun, 

He hunted Cooties in their lair 

And wished them all some other where. 



He tried his best to shake 'em 
From his clothes, but couldn't make *em 
Budge at all ; no, they wouldn't go. 
Because they seemed to love him so. 




10 



While on a vigor'us hunt one day, 
A lone wee Cootie thought he'd stay 
And hide upon his hairy leg 
And take the Scottie down a peg. 



Now, Coots are not supposed to bite 
When men are standing up to fight; 
But this wee Cootie didn't care, 
Bit Scottie's leg and made him swear. 




n 



It angered him, the Cootie's nip 
Annoyed him so he couldn't snip ; 
He stooped to get the base marauder, 
When, crash! a noise that made him 
shudder. 

A shot sped on its deadly way, 
Smashing a hole in the chalky clay, 
Right back of where his head had been- 
He'd ducked in time to save his skin. 



^^CT) 




12 



He got the Cootie he was after, 
But didn't kill the little grafter ; 
Holding it gently in his hand, 
Sat right down, too weak to stand. 



That pellet of death had meant to slay. 
And but for the Cootie, he'd bei on his way; 
Right now to the gate of St. Peter ; 
Yes, on the way to meet his Creator. 




13 



Trembling so he could scarcely speak, 
Gently pressed the Coot to his cheek; 
Wild thoughts were buzzing in his head- 
"Thank God for you," then Angus said. 



"Ye're a wee mite despised by man, 
But you are part of God's great plan ; 
So why do we think badly of yer breed. 
When a' y're after is yer feed? 



^^C^ 




14 



"Ye hunt yer feed in some queer places, 
An' ye care not what the sex or race is ; 
But, what's on a lady's bonnet? 
Surely there's no feed upon it. 



" *0h, wad some power the Giftie gie us 
To see oursel's as others see us.' 
Do ye mind? Robbie Burns wrote that 
When he saw ye on the lassie's hat. 




15 



** *Twas long ago afore ye changed yer name ( 
To Cootie, still yer bite's the same; 
An' still the folk will ca' ye pest 'jl| 

When at yer work and doin' yer best. 



"Weel I mind how ye did greet us, 
Ye came right to the boat to meet us, 
An' weel I mind we tried to sleep 
On that first night we felt yer creep. 



-,./" -^ 




16 



"We were well acquainted 'fore the dawn 
An' cursed ye well 'twixt yawn and yawn, 
An' tried to find ye, but ye had hid 
In a safe place, ye naughty kid. 



"Hid where not a Scot could find ye, 
An' on the march we didn't mind ye ; 
No, you were sleeping, snug and quiet. 
To rest yersel' for work that night. 




17 



**Ye stuck an' knew ye were not wanted, 
An' to the front ye came undaunted, 
An' to roarin' guns ye paid no heed, 
But settled down to get yer feed. 



"An' I didn't like ye then at a' 
An' to the 'hot place' condemned ye a', 
But now I know through a' this strife 
That you were sent to save my life. 




18 



"Aye, ye have saved my life the day, 
An' I owe ye more than I can ever pay, 
An' I owe my God wh' rules above 
A closer fellowship and love. 



"Cootie, I'll not disturb ye more 
Whene'er yer wantin' to explore 
My hairy shank, jist help yersel' 
An' I'll do not but wish ye well. 




19 



**An' linger till a feast ye make, 
An' if I grudge the bites ye take 
I'll count mysel' the bigger sinner, 
Now, I'll put ye back to get yer dinner." 

James H. Heron 




20 



PUBLISHED BY 

JAMES H. HERON 

AUTHOR OF 
"Virile Victory Verse" 

"Let's Give 'Em Ships" 

Dedicated to Charles M. Schwab 
"Will to Win" 
"God's Men" 
"The Fighting Spirit" 
"The March of American Men" 
"What Did You Do?" 
"Let Poppies Grow" 
"Sleep on in Peace" 
"The Greatest Story" 

"America's Welcome to 
Harry Lauder" 

"It's Great to Belong to Rotary" 

Etc., Etc. 



The Value of Humor 

Now that the war is safely w^on, 

You've w^elcomed home your fighting son. 

You'll be ready for a little fun, 

Humor or wit. 

So laugh and sing, be alw^ays gay 
And strive to brighten every day; 
You'll find that humor has a w^ay 

To benefit. 

JAMES H. HERON 

Author - Humorist - Lecturer 

Special Inspirational Talks to Industry 

25 Clarendon Place 

ORANGE, N. J. 



'Printed by 

The Price & Lee Co. of N. J. 

The Art Press 

NEWARK, new JERSEY 









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